


Scenes From a Manor

by PyrophobicDragon



Category: Dragalia Lost (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-12 15:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19134565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PyrophobicDragon/pseuds/PyrophobicDragon
Summary: Sometimes the people around you are just oblivious. It's hardly your fault.After an incident at the Castle, Heinwald invites Euden's band of adventurers to stay at his home. A few isolated incidents and a revelation.





	Scenes From a Manor

**Author's Note:**

> Rated T for Curran's potty mouth and a few sexual references. And one count of blood.

Curran gave a gentle tug on the reins to guide the horse into taking the left-hand path. Heinwald’s arm was warm around his waist, holding on loosely. They had chosen to make slow progress towards Euden’s castle today, both to appreciate the unseasonably cloudless day and in deference to Heinwald’s attempt to read a book while riding horseback.

He’d been holding on pretty well so far. There had been only one scare, and Curran managed to stabilize him before he could go sliding off the horse into a snowbank.

The horse rounded one final ridge and the castle came into view. As they approached the castle, getting close enough to see through the open castle gate, Curran spotted the members of Euden’s army milling about in the courtyard. But it didn’t appear that they were playing in the thin layer of icy snow, just...standing there.

Frowning, wondering if something had gone wrong, Curran said over his shoulder, “Hold on tight. I’m gonna pick up the pace a little.” Without waiting for a reply, he urged the horse on faster, and soon they’re moving at a steady trot towards the castle.

Heinwald’s other arm, now holding a closed book, snaked around Curran’s waist to hold on. He said into Curran’s ear, “Hm. It appears as though something unfortunate has happened within the castle. Everyone is outside, and not necessarily in seasonally-appropriate gear. However, no one appears to be actively panicking from this distance, so I doubt it was something as dire as a fire or a collapse.”

Curran couldn’t help but chuckle. “I doubt it’s a collapse, partner. After all, the roofs are still standing.”

“One of the wings could have caved in. Or the ceiling of one of the halls. Or perhaps a wall fell in. The castle’s mortar is quite old, you know. Parts of it could fall at any point.”

“Great, now you’re making me not want to step foot in that rotting castle ever again,” Curran complained.

By this time, they had gone under the gate and into the courtyard. Sure enough, the castle still looked it like was in one piece. Curran guided the horse to make a beeline for the largest gathering of people.

“Euden! What’s going on?” he called as soon as he spotted the prince’s blond head in the crowd.

Everyone turned to look at the two of them on the horse. Euden hastily approached as he called back, “Oh, hello. Perfect--or perhaps poor--timing.”

The horse stepped closer...and then Curran pulled it to a stop. He sniffed the air. “What’s that...smell?”

Heinwald’s non-book hand disappeared from around his waist. He covered up his nose with his large sleeve. “Oh dear. I believe I can offer a hypothesis about what has happened.”

From the center of the group, Sarisse elbowed her way out and storms over. Curran managed to get the briefest glimpse of Luca, googly-eyed in the center of the loose circle, before Sarisse launched into her tirade. “I’ll tell you what happened! My stupid brother planted stink bombs literally ALL OVER the castle! And he underestimated the strength so now the whole darn place smells like rotten eggs!”

Euden heaved a great sigh. “Yes. And it’s predicted to be quite cold tonight, so keeping the windows open to air out the castle will require some planning. So we’ve been discussing what to do when you two got here.”

Heinwald whispered into Curran’s ear, “It is quite fortuitous that we took our time arriving here, else we, too, would have been caught in the...bombing.”

Curran muttered back, “I’m still gonna give shit to you for wanting to read on the road later.” He paused and muttered, “Y’know--”

“I am one step ahead of you, as always.” Heinwald leaned around Curran to address Euden, ignoring Curran’s angry sputter. “As you are perhaps aware, I have a sizable manor home that will likely be a suitable temporary home for a party of this size. I would like to open my doors to you.”

“R-really?” Euden exclaimed. “Wow, Heinwald, that’s really generous of you. Are you sure that’s okay?”

Heinwald shrugged. “As long as there are no more bombs, it will be no trouble. The manor only has two denizens at the moment.”

“Oh, Curran lives there too?” Elisanne came over to join the conversation. “I didn’t know that.”

“Someone’s gotta make sure this guy eats,” Curran said with a grin.

“Excuse you, my servants provide food at appropriate intervals throughout the day,” Heinwald huffed.

Curran countered, “Yeah, but you don’t eat it unless I stand over you and shove it down your throat.”

“Guys, guys…” Euden said weakly.

“Sorry.”

“My apologies.”

Cleo walked over to their horse. She was wearing her typical dress, shivering in the barely-above-freezing weather. “Could we head to your manor right now? We don’t want anyone to catch a cold.”

“Right!” Curran urged the horse to start turning around. Heinwald, sensing that their return trip will be much faster, sighed and tucked away his book. “It’s a couple hours away. If we hurry, we can get there by nightfall.”

The stinking members of the castle slowly piled onto carts and horses. Heinwald whispered to Curran, “Well. I’m glad that we will be leading the pack.”

Curran snorted. Then instantly regrets it. That stuff was potent.

Their extremely large party then set off for Heinwald’s manor.

***

Just as Curran predicted, the party reached the manor just before nightfall.

Curran slid off the horse first, then held up his hand to help Heinwald down. Once his partner was safely on the ground, Curran started stretching. Riding on a horse literally all day was hell on his body.

Euden approached the two of them again. “Again, thanks so much for offering your home…” he began.

Heinwald waved off the appreciation. He’d been getting a little annoyed at the amount of gratitude everyone expressed at him. “It is honestly no trouble to let you stay for a week or two. But I do have some words I’d like you to spread.” He cleared his throat. “Upon consideration, we may not have enough rooms for everyone. Some may choose to share rooms, or some may choose to stay in the common rooms such as the lounge. Please ask the others to stay out of my laboratory unless I am there--”

“Which is most of the time,” Curran muttered.

Heinwald gave him a look. “Please, my friend. You know full well that I can be found in the library or my study as well.” He continued on. “It is the same with the study and my bedroom. Please do not enter the library until tomorrow morning; there are some rare, valuable, or otherwise dangerous books I’d like to lock up before allowing people to peruse the shelves at their leisure. The manor is run mostly by magic; if some spells are malfunctioning feel free to let me know. I will give you a tour once we enter. While we have linens to spare, we are rather lacking in spare clothing, but in the servant’s quarters there is no doubt enough pieces of livery to clothe an army, if anyone wishes for a change of clothes.”

Euden looked a little wide-eyed by the end of Heinwald’s speech. Curran sighed and translated. “Basically, respect our private rooms, and don’t mess with anything dangerous.”

Euden’s countenance cleared. “Right. I’ll go spread the word.”

As he headed off to the first cartload of people, Heinwald called after him, “Hot baths and warm food are available!”

Curran took him by the hand and dragged him over to the front door. Pulling out his key, he opened up the door and shoved Heinwald through. “Go on, go lock up your library. I know you literally won’t sleep until you’ve done that.”

Heinwald didn’t even bothering trying to deny it. He called out softly, “Goodnight, Curran.”

Curran sighed as his footsteps fade into the distance. Unlike his partner, he had basic manners, which meant that he would have to be the one getting everyone settled. Well. Who knows which one would end up in bed first.

Three hours later, just past eleven in the evening, Curran finally slouched into their bedroom. He kicked off his shoes and headed over to the bed, stripping out of his clothes as he moved and leaving the discarded clothing in random piles on the floor.

Heinwald glanced over the top of his book at him. “What have I told you about leaving your clothes on the floor.”

“Your servants will pick it up anyways,” Curran grumbled. He let himself fall face-forward onto the bed, draping across Heinwald’s legs where they’re tucked underneath the blankets. On his way down, he stubbed his toe against something and immediately props himself back up. A glance over his shoulder revealed that Heinwald had set up a small pile of books against the bed. He laughed. “Let me guess. In the process of quarantining books you found a couple of old friends that you couldn’t resist revisiting.”

Heinwald grumbled wordlessly, eyes glued to his book once more.

Grinning, Curran sat up. He plucked the book from his hands and added it to the stack. “No late-night reading tonight. Blow out the candle and let’s go to sleep.”

Heinwald only made a small unhappy noise. But he obediently took off his glasses and waited for Curran to situate himself under the covers before blowing out the candle.

“‘Night, Hein.”

“Goodnight, Curran.”

***

Day 1

8:00AM

Euden woke up, bright and early, to take a look around Heinwald’s home.

He slipped out of the guest room, doing his best not to wake up Ranzal (not that it was too hard--that man slept like a brick and snored like a lion) and padded down the elegantly-carpeted hallway.

He felt a bit bad about snooping, but Heinwald had told him that only certain areas were off-limits. Besides, he was very curious about this mansion. While he knew logically that Heinwald was a lord, that he owned quite a bit of land, and that the investigator duo tended to not stay in the castle for weeks at a time, this was actually his first time ever seeing Heinwald’s family home.

The interior was quite...gothic. The mansion was a smorgasbord of blacks and purples, with golds and occasional reds accenting the dark colors rather than standing out. Despite the high ceilings and large windows, it had quite a cozy atmosphere.

Though he did wonder how it felt when there were only two people living here. Or when there was only one.

On his way through the foyer, he spotted Fleur standing in front of the grand fireplace. She wasn’t warming herself by the flames; instead she was looking up.

Euden looked up as well. Much to his surprise, there was a painting there. He hadn’t noticed it last night with the darkness and the distractions, and as he approached Flora he took it in.

It was a sizable painting. It was not as large as some of the ones decorating the hallways, but it definitely could not be classified as small one either. The beautiful golden frame matched in color with the ones upstairs, but it was must more ornate. With the prominent placement, the beauty of the frame, and his knowledge of other lordly manors he’s visited in the past, he knew that this painting was typically the painting of the lord of the manor and his family.

In the painting, Heinwald sat on a large armchair. His left hand rested on a book in his lap, and his right hand rested on the arm of the chair, holding a single white chrysanthemum.

Curran stood behind him, one arm draped over the back of the armchair, putting his weight on one foot so it looked like he was leaning on the chair.

By now, he had ended up behind Fleur. She didn’t spare even spare him a glance before she murmured, “It’s quite a striking painting. It really catches the intensity of their eyes!”

“It really does,” Euden agreed. And it really did. Curran’s blue eyes and Heinwald’s red ones seemed to gaze straight into his soul and he suddenly found himself hoping that he never ends up on the wrong side of one of their investigations. How anyone tried to lie with those gazes locked onto them, he couldn’t fathom.

“It’s such an incredible painting, I’m not even sure it’s a painting at all,” Fleur confessed. At Euden’s puzzled look, she stood up on her tip-toes, pointing at seemingly random spots on the painting. “I’ve been looking at it for at least an hour, and I can’t see any signs of brush strokes. Not only that, but it’s not signed in any way--and no right-minded artist would forget or refuse to sign a painting made for a lord.”

“You’d know better than me, I suppose,” Euden replied ambivalently. “But maybe it’s magic. After all, this place appears to be run by invisible servants.”

Fleur frowned. Apparently she hadn’t considered that possibility. “Why don’t you ask Heinwald about it?” Euden suggested.

At that, Fleur looked a little alarmed. “O-oh! I mean, I could...but….” She grinned sheepishly. “He’s a little bit scary, isn’t he?”

Euden couldn’t help but grin back. “Heinwald’s really not that bad. He’s just a little...blunt.”

“Well, not only that, but this painting…” she trailed off as she turned to consider it again. Then she shook off whatever she was thinking. “Well, never mind. Maybe I will talk to Mr. Heinwald.”

“It never hurts to get to know our fellow adventurers,” Euden agreed. “Well, I’m going to go get breakfast.”

“I’m probably going to head upstairs to look at some of the other paintings. I’ll see you!”

Euden waved as he headed into the dining room. As he sat down to a magically-appearing plate of food, he thought about that painting.

Fleur was right. There was something a bit telling about it.

***

Day 1

11:00PM

Heinwald, lying on his side, watched Curran undress. Curran was already used to his near-constant staring, so he simply ignored him as he got ready for bed until Heinwald said out of the blue, "Fleur asked me about the painting today."

Damn. He was hoping the staring was for other reasons. He balled up his shirt and tossed it into the corner along with his pants. “Didn't run away screaming from you? She’s got balls."

Heinwald ignored him and continued, "I explained to her that it was a magical painting that shows the current family of the manor, whether by might, rite, or birthright."

“Still don’t know why i’m on there," Curran sighed, climbing into bed and settling down. "I didn't take over this place, I'm not related to you--I really hope I'm not--and we aren't married."

"Yet," Heinwald mumbled. Before Curran could ask what the hell he meant by that, Heinwald had already barreled on. “By the spell's reckoning, you’re a lord of this mansion as much as I am. You are sworn to me, beyond a servant-master relationship. Even if we weren't lovers, the degree to which I trust you makes you better than family.”

Curran was stunned into silence. He had no idea how to reply to that. Their usual snarkfest seemed...unfitting for such a confession. But finally, he settled on leaning over and giving Heinwald a gentle kiss.

Heinwald just smiled at him. “Goodnight, Curran.”

***

Day 3

2:00PM

Lowen hurried down the hallways towards the library.

Mr. Heinwald had many interesting and fun books. And not only did his library cover magic, it also had novels, and poems, and short story anthologies too. Lowen had just finished up one of the poetry books and was eager to take the next one from the shelf.

He jumped ten feet in the air and yelped when a door suddenly opened right in front of him.

Mr. Heinwald poked his head out. His hair was coated with some sort of sticky golden substance, almost the color of a rich honey or maple syrup. A streak of it had dripped down onto his face as well, making him squint one eye. He spotted Lowen and said, “Ah. Wonderful. Lowen, could you head up into my room and grab me and Curran a change of clothes? I seem to have splattered ourselves with an extremely sticky substance, and while we can wash it off our skin and hair here, I’d prefer get out of our clothes as soon as possible, and I’d prefer not to track it around the castle for others to step in.”

“Don’t waste his time, Hein.” Mr. Curran sounded annoyed, but he always sounded annoyed when he talks to Mr. Heinwald. His head also poked out, and much like Mr. Heinwald, he’s also covered in whatever it is. “Our room is up the stairs, left-hand door in the left-hand hallway. His clothes are on the right, and mine are on the left. Try to get the casual stuff near the back of the closet. Since we’re gonna be cleaning this up for the foreseeable future.”

“Now who’s wasting his time?” Mr. Heinwald sniped.

“I’m giving him f--darn directions! How is that wasting his time!”

“Stop arguing and start mopping, please.”

Sensing that he was no longer needed in this conversation, Lowen set down his book and turned and ran back down the hall. He scurried up the stairs and into the left-hand hallway. The left-hand door was already unlocked, so he pushed open the door without difficulty.

Once inside, he had to pause and take stock of the room. There were two doors on the left-hand wall, there was the large plush-looking bed (that he kinda wanted to jump on, but he refrained), there was a desk and a small table and a large window but nothing that looked like the wardrobes in the castle or like the dressers that used to hold his and Louise’s clothes. In the end he strode over and opened up the far door. That turned out to be a bathroom, as equally as grand and beautiful as the bedroom, but he shut it before he could indulge his curiosity. Then he opened the door closer to the entrance, and sure enough, it resolved itself as a room dedicated to clothes. It was only partially filled--neither Mr. Curran nor Mr. Heinwald seemed to care so much about clothes--but, given the fact that all of their clothing look mostly the same with only a few differences, Lowen had to hesitate over what they would considered “casual.”

Remembering Mr. Curran’s directions, Lowen started in the back left corner. The first outfit in the far back was black and looked kinda like Edward’s normal outfit. The next one was extremely severe and much more structured than Mr. Curran’s usual clothing. Lowen could guess that it was meant for fancy parties or whatnot. The third outfit was, as Mr. Curran had implied, a simple shirt and a pair of plain brown pants. Lowen pulled them down and draped them over his arm before turning to the other side of the room.

The first one he looked at was also a very fancy outfit. Lowen stopped for a moment, trying to imagine strange Mr. Heinwald in something so nice-looking, maybe dancing around the great big ballroom with Lucretia, the fanciest lady Lowen knows. The mental image made him giggle, but he dropped the outfit and moved onto the next one.

Which was--a maid outfit? Yeah, one of the maid outfits from the servant’s quarters. Louise was wearing one of these while waiting for her clothes to stop stinking; in fact, Lowen himself was wearing one of the outfits meant for the stable boys, which had a cute flat hat he loved and was hoping to keep. Lowen frowned at the strange, seemingly out-of-place dress before moving on to the next hanger, which turned out to be a white buttoned shirt and black pants. Which was apparently as casual as Mr. Heinwald could manage.

Mission complete, Lowen ran out of the closet and down the stairs. The door was propped open and he could hear Mr. Curran and Mr. Heinwald arguing some more. Lowen stopped at the threshold and called, “I’ve brought your clothes, Mr. Curran!”

Mr. Curran looked up from where he was wiping down the windows. Mr Heinwald, kneeling on his hands and knees on the floor with a rag, nodded gratefully at him. Mr. Curran smiled. “Great, thanks a tin! Er, ton. You can set them down by the doorway in a, uh, non-sticky spot.” He returned to scrubbing his rag across the window.

“No problem!” Lowen chirped. He found a suitable spot for the small pile of clothing he carried. But before leaving, he hesitated for a split second. Then, before he could second-guess, he asked, “Mr. Heinwald, why is there a maid’s dress in your closet?”

Mr. Curran and Mr. Heinwald both froze. Then Mr. Curran snorted. Loudly. He pressed his fist to his mouth in an attempt to stifle his laughter, shoulders shaking with the effort, but he was pretty unsuccessful as the sound escaped through his nose with every wheeze.

Mr. Heinwald sat up onto his knees. His expression was unreadable. “I am uncertain,” he said, voice almost deliberately? even. “Perhaps one of my servants, unaccustomed to having others in this castle, placed it there after cleaning it. Thank you for notifying me; I’ll get the error fixed as soon as we clean up this mess.”

Lowen stared at Mr. Curran, utterly confused by his apparent amusement. “Er, okay. I’ll be on my way now. Good luck!”

As he exited the room, he stopped to pick up the book he dropped on the ground. In the process, he heard Mr. Heinwald and Mr. Curran talking.

“Quit laughing, you imbecile. How embarrassing…”

“Oh, is that the reason why that’s there? It’s there by accident? Not one of your finer moments, partner.”

“Shut up. You know full well why it’s there. Don’t give me reason to remove it.”

Even more confused, Lowen continued on his journey to the library. He resolved to himself to ask Louise about this later. Or maybe Ranzal?

***

Day 3

11:30PM

Curran climbed into bed next to Heinwald. He chuckled and pressed a long kiss to his temple, which Heinwald allowed. A good sign.

“Are you still sulking?” he asked, biting his lip to try and tamp down his amusement. Which was difficult. He kept on almost bursting out into laughter throughout the day remembering the horrified look of Heinwald’s back when the kid had dropped the bomb.

“Let me wallow in my embarrassment.” Heinwald crossed his arms and pouted adorably. It only made Curran laugh again and try and kiss that pout. Still sulking, then.

“C’mon, partner, you’re the most socially blind person I know. How come you’re so embarrassed by this?”

Heinwald rubbed one hand across his face. “For a moment there, I was certain I would have to explain to a small child the concept of ‘kinks.’” He sighed heavily.

All right. Enough teasing, time to butter on some reassurance. “But you didn’t. You recovered pretty smoothly. If we haven’t been hanging around so long, I would’ve never guessed that you were lying.” Curran pressed another kiss to his purple cheek. Was it worth pressing…? Probably, even if it was only for the amusement Heinwald would get out of shooting him down. “You know what’ll get your mind off of today’s incident…?”

Heinwald shot him an exasperated, but not entirely hostile, look. “You’re unbelievable.”

“That’s not a no, partner,” Curran grinned back, unrepentant.

That got him an incredible eye-roll and a, “Fine. But you have to wear your butler uniform too.”

"Fine by me."

Score.

***

Day 4

1:00AM

Cleo put her hands on her hips with a sigh.

Ranzal was draped over the dining room table, snoring away. Staying in a manor whose food was entirely supplied by servants who were willing to put down as much food as desired was doing horrible things to Ranzal's habits.

Normally, Cleo would have just left him on the table to sleep, or perhaps pushed him over to sleep on the floor, but Ranzal was scheduled to depart on a mission the next day--or rather, later that day--and it would be unsafe if he had to deal with a sore back during battle.

On one hand, he was lucky Cleo had decided to come downstairs for some water. On the other hand, he was unlucky that it was Cleo.

A noise behind her had her glancing over her shoulder. Heinwald entered the dining room, still fully dressed. "Good morning, Miss Cleo. Is something the matter?"

Cleo gestured to Ranzal. "I want to get him to bed, but I am not nearly strong enough to get him up the stairs and to his room."

Heinwald came over and examined the large axeman. After a moment, he declared, "Hm. While I, too, am not particularly strong, I believe that if we work together we can, with some difficulty, get him into bed."

Working together, they managed to pull Ranzal out of his chair. With Cleo under one arm and Heinwald under the other, they began the long haul up the stairs.

About fifteen minutes later, they had only just made it up to the second floor. There, they bumped into Euden and Curran. Euden said, “Oh! There you guys are.”

“What are you doing up?” Cleo asked with a frown.

Curran replied, “I woke up, Hein still wasn’t in bed, so I decided to go drag his ass back to bed. Bumped into Euden, who was looking for Ranzal, so we decided to look together. Guess we managed to catch two birds with one bone, though.”

During that explanation, Euden had already made his way around to Heinwald’s side. “Here, I can take him.”

Curran came up to Cleo, and the two healers gratefully transferred their still-snoring cargo onto the shoulders of their much stronger friends. Euden leaned around Ranzal to address Curran. He said, “Just help me up this last flight of stairs, and then you guys can head to bed. I can handle Ranzal from the third floor.”

Curran nodded and their strange party made its way--at a much quicker pace, with much less swearing--up to the third floor. Curran dropped Ranzal’s arm and gave Cleo a quick wave. “Night, Cleo. Night, Euden.”

They exchanged their good-nights. Then Curran and Heinwald headed down the hallway and entered the left-hand door.

Cleo’s not really sure why a ripple of surprise went through her. She had figured that those two shared a room, considering the circumstances and the fact that despite (or maybe because of) their constant arguing they were each other’s closest friend.

Maybe it was something about the practiced ease that surprised her. Maybe it was something else. But either way, it was far too late to be thinking weird thoughts, so she set it aside for later examination and went to bed.

***

Day 5

9:00PM

Curran had just sat down with a glass and a bottle when he was immediately interrupted by Ranzal.

"Hey! Don't drink alone here. Let's go out! You should show me all the good bars!" he bellowed. Without waiting for a reply, he pulled Curran up and out of his chair by the elbow and began dragging him towards the door.

Curran sputtered, shocked at the sudden attack. "Wh--Ranzal, are you drunk already?"

"Nah," Ranzal said dismissively. "A beer or two ain't enough to get me drunk."

Curran sighed and resigned himself to his fate.

They ended up at a bar Curran liked, for they had cheap drinks and friendly patrons who knew when to leave him alone. As soon as they enter, the bartender looked up and greeted them with, "Ah. Hey, Curran. Fighting with the mi--er, Mr. Heinwald again?"

Curran didn't even need to see Ranzal’s face to know that it was one of utter amusement. "Nah, not today. Just thought I'd take my friend here into town."

The bartender nodded at Ranzal. "Welcome in. Take a seat and let me know what you want to have."

As soon as they took their seats at the bar, Ranzal immediately ordered beers for both of them. Curran personally preferred something stronger himself (or wine, when he was drinking with Heinwald) but he could never turn down a free drink. Unless he was on a case.

Despite the fact that it was only a beer, he sipped at his drink. He wasn't looking to get kicked out of bed tonight, as Heinwald was wont to do on the rare occassion that Curran was blackout drunk. Waking up on the floor made for some very unpleasant hangovers.

He got jerked out of his thoughts about Heinwald's scowling face when Ranzal elbowed him in the side. "What are ya smiling about?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing."

"Well, I'll tell you something to smile about." Ranzal jerked his thumb over one shoulder. "There's some pretty ladies in the corner eyeing us up. Maybe we can land you a woman tonight, huh?"

Curran glanced over his shoulder. He recognized some of the women there as regulars to this bar. No doubt all of them were interested in the the new, handsome man, rather than their friend Curran. One of them waved at him. He waved back.

He turned back around and said to Ranzal, “Good luck, friend.”

A hand landed on his shoulder in a matter of minutes. “Hi, Curran. Care to introduce us to your friend here?”

Curran hid his smile in his cup. Once he composed himself, he turned to Ranzal with a grin. “This is Ranzal. He’s a knight.”

Ranzal seemed a bit overwhelmed, but happy. “Hello--”

Curran quietly shifted one seat over. His previous seat was immediately occupied by one of the women and he chuckled to himself as they all started talking at once.

His smile quickly faded when he felt a presence setting by his side. He turned to face Malora, who had suddenly appeared at her side. She smiled prettily at him. "Well, to say I'm disappointed is an understatement. My favorite man seems a bit occupied right now."

Curran chuckled. "Yeah. He seemed intent about getting me a 'lady' or whatever, but he changed his tune real quick."

"Hm. A shame. But there's still hope for you yet, tiger." Malora fluttered her eyelashes at him. "How about you buy me a drink? It seems only fair, since yours is free."

Now, Curran had no issue with paying for other people's drinks. Charity was smiled upon, yadda yadda. Nor did he begrudge women their drinks and their fun. Usually he would have gotten Malora her drink, with an offer of friendship and only friendship, but given both her tract and the obviously-eavesdropping bartender, he had a feeling that a rumor will mutate and fly its way over to the manor sometime and, though Heinwald will likely listen to reason, Curran doesn't want him to feel unappreciated even for a little bit.

"Sorry, Malora. No can do." He flashed her an apologetic smile.

Malora pouted. "Aw, really? Is it because you're not allowed to have fun as an inquisitor? That would make sense to me. I wouldn't want to let my best heretic-catcher be whisked away by the charms of a woman."

Curran couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, no. Well, first of all, inquisitors aren't banned from having relationships. Second of all, this money is mostly Heinwald's, and I just feel bad spending it chilly-willy.”

Malora looked surprise. And even Ranzal leaned around the woman sitting in between them to look at him. "What!" he cried.

Malora pouted. "So, your coin purse is controlled by the likes of a nagging housewife? Aw, that's hardly fair!"

Curran pointed at Ranzal. "Seriously, how much do you think inquisitors get paid? And yeah, while I did get some money from our other investigations, I spend that mostly on equipment maintenance and eating things other than bread and cheese.” He then turned to Malora. “And while Heinwald is a nag sometimes, he can hardly be called a housewife. Doubt that man knows how to wash his own clothes.” That at least got a laugh out of Malora.

Turning back to Ranzal, he said, “You’ve seen his fucking house. That asshole’s loaded. He always tells me not to worry about the money, but living on an inquisitor’s salary for ten years teaches you a hard lesson or two about fungality.”

“The boy knows nothing about how to run an estate.”

Malora turned around. The man who so rudely cut in was sitting one seat over from her.

Curran was the first to react. “Excuse me?”

The man shot him a glare. “Heinwald knew his place. He knew how to manage his money, how to give it to people who deserve it. Unlike his bastard son.”

Ranzal’s eyes went wide. Malora glanced back over her shoulder at Curran. His face was slowly growing red with anger, bright blue eyes narrowing into sharp shards of sapphire. He stood up from his seat and walked towards the man. He stopped just inside his personal bubble. “I advise you to never, ever compare Heinwald to his father again. The Goddess has mercy, but I sure don’t.”

Unimpressed, the man snorted. “Figures. Of course you don’t know who I am, you’re nothing more than his attack dog.” His lips curl into a sneer. “If that little void-touched freak knew what was good for this province, he’d make like his sister and go kill hi--”

With an inhuman yell that silenced the whole bar, Curran punched the man in the face. He punched him hard enough that he nearly fell off his chair. And then he pulled back his arm and did it again, blood splattering across the bar. The man howled in fear and pain, but Curran didn’t stop. Instead, he fisted one hand in the man’s collar and began to punch him again and again and again.

Finally, one of the women who were flirting with Ranzal spoke up. “Curran!” she cried.

Curran finally stopped. He dropped his arms to his side and staggered backwards. The man was now lying limp against the bar, bloodied face near unrecognizable.. The only sounds in the bar was his moaning and whimpering and Curran’s heavy breathing. Curran stood there for a long moment, staring at him, then he turned and walked out the door.

Malora and Ranzal exchanged glances. Then they both took off after him.

Curran was walking at a pace so quick that even Ranzal with his long legs had to hurry to keep up. None of them spoke as they made their way through the town towards the manor.

After slamming open the front door, Curran led them through the foyer into the dining room. Despite the late hour, many of their teammates were there. Ranzal and Malora hurry through the door after him, but almost bump into his back when he stopped stock-still in the middle of the doorway. At once, both of them move around him so they could see into the room.

Heinwald was seated at the head of the table, with the abandoned liquor bottle Curran left in front of him. When they entered, he started, “You’re back ear--”

“Sorry.”

Heinwald looked up. His next words die on his lips as he takes in Curran’s bloodied hands. Curran was looking at the floor, his face filled with a mix of residual anger and shame. Then he mumbles, “I...think I’m going to get arrested.”

Heinwald slammed his book shut, making everyone jump, and stood up. Everyone else in the room was deathly silent as Heinwald demanded, “What did you do?”

Curran licked his lips. He began to speak, but stopped. While he was struggled with his words, Ranzal decided to step in. He said, usually brash voice now subdued, “He...he beat someone at the bar.” It was difficult getting that much out. Ranzal wanted to tell Heinwald that he did it because the man was insulting him, but he suddenly found it hard to even think about what the man had said when Heinwald was looking at Curran like that.

At his explanation, Heinwald nodded. He simply stood there, looking at Curran.

Curran stopped looking at his feet and looked at Heinwald.

Everyone else in the room just looked at the two of them.

Then came the sound of someone knocking on the front door.

“Allow me to do the talking,” Heinwald murmured, finally breaking the silence. He stepped around the still-frozen Curran and disappeared into the foyer.

Everyone kept looking at Curran. Curran resumed looking at the floor.

From the foyer, they could hear talking.

“Ah. Hello, officers. I was hoping you could tell me why my man showed up with bloody knuckles looking both drunk and ashamed.”

“He, ah, he punched Mr. Schultz, sir.”

“Mr.Schultz has decided not to press charges, sir, and from witness reports, he said some things that he might regret when he’s sober.”

“I see. And Curran…”

“We’re here to pick him up, sir, just for the night. You can come bail your fellow out twelve hours after he’s processed, so around noon sometime tomorrow.”

“Thank you very much. I assure you he will give you no trouble during this arrest. He’s just down here, in the dining room.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Almost every head in the room turned to look as Heinwald entered, followed by two guards. Curran was still looking at the floor. But when the guards took him gently by the elbows, he went willingly.

Heinwald stepped aside to allow the trio to leave the dining room. He then trailed them into the foyer, watching them go to the front door and leave. He stood there for a long moment.

Ranzal walked over to the door of the dining room. “Okay, Heinwald. What the hell?” he demanded.

Heinwald didn’t turn to look at him. “Mr. Schultz was the son of a local landowner. My father and the landowners had certain...arrangements. After my father died, I ordered investigations into any potential illegal dealings that they may have had and discovered many. Mr. Schultz was too young to be culpable, but old enough to develop a grudge towards me for not following my father’s footsteps and turning a blind eye to the source of his family’s wealth. I assume that he said something unpleasant, and Curran got upset. I hear he has a habit of complaining, though this is the first and likely the last time he says something within earshot of me or Curran.”

“If he’s been nasty this whole time, why don’t you kick him out?” Ranzal demanded at the same time Malora cried,

“If he’s been nasty this whole time, why did you let them arrest Curran?”

Heinwald was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “Because if I drive him out of town, then his wife and children will suffer as well. And they are innocent, and good people. And I cannot allow Curran to assault someone without some consequence, even if he is my partner and he was doing so for my sake. If it had merely been a blow, then perhaps he could have walked away, but given the state of his hands, I am only surprised that he didn’t end up in jail longer.”

He turned around. Then he walked back into the still dining room, where he picked up the bottle of liquor, his book, and the glass. Addressing the bottle, he politely said, “Malora, Ranzal, would you two mind coming with me to my study?”

“O-oh, yes,”

“Yeah, sure,”

They mumbled simultaneously.

The three of them walked upstairs to Heinwald’s study. Heinwald was quiet the whole way.

When they entered the study, Heinwald waved a hand at them as he elbowed the door shut. “Feel free to make yourselves comfortable, but don’t worry, I won’t be keeping you long.” He walked over to his desk and set down the bottle, the glass, and his book. Without bothering to sit down himself, he poured himself a generous portion of the amber liquid and took a large gulp. Then he addressed Ranzal and Malora again. “Could you tell me exactly what Schultz said?”

Ranzal and Malora exchanged a glance. Malora began. “Ah, he said that you did not know how to run the estate.” Heinwald nodded slightly, taking another drink, and Malora cautiously continued. “He, ah, said that your father knew...who to give money to...to people who deserve it. He also called Curran your attack dog.”

Heinwald smirked just a little bit. Ranzal took over. He said grimly, “Called you a, uh, ‘bastard son’ and a ‘void-touched freak.’” Then he swallowed. He knew very little about what Heinwald’s family was like, but he was a bit leery of telling Heinwald this last part, simply because it had been the straw that broke Curran’s back. But he soldiered on. “He said that if you knew what was good for the province, you would...follow your sister and...die.”

Heinwald’s smirk transformed into a pained smile. He finished his glass in two swallows and poured himself another one. “That’s not what he said, was it.”

It wasn’t a question. Ranzal swallowed again. Then he and Malora said, “No, sir.”

“Hn.” Another drink. “Thank you. You may go now.”

Malora and Ranzal both slowly shuffled towards the door, leaving Heinwald standing by his desk, drinking and staring off into space.

Malora hesitated, wanting to say something--I’m sorry? Drink water? Don’t worry?--but Ranzal gently took her by the shoulder and guided her out the door.

***

Day 6

11:30AM

Heinwald sat on a bench outside the guard’s barracks with a book he wasn’t reading. After drinking until midnight and falling into a deep alcohol-induced slumber, he had woken up at four and was unable to fall back asleep without Curran nearby. Even after seven hours, he still felt like hell from his hangover. He was never the best drinker in the first place, and drinking the amount he did to try and ignore his long-dead family issues and knock himself to a dreamless sleep had been...unwise.

The bright sun reflected off of the snow-covered ground and assaulted his brain twice over. He stood up from the bench and headed inside merely in an attempt to avoid the rays.

The guard manning the front nodded at him when he came in. Undoubtedly he had seen Heinwald sitting on that bench for the last three hours. “Good morning, sir. It’s still a little early, but…you may go talk with him, to pass the time.”

He must look like hell, if the guard is being so kind to him. “If you’d please.”

“All right, he’s just downstairs, in the drunk tank. Didn’t really feel the need to give him a proper cell.” The guard moved to leave his chair, but Heinwald waved him off.

“No need. I can escort myself there.” He had bailed Curran out of the drunk tank once or twice before. As a staunch member of the Church, Curran was not prone to drunken antics outside of their home, but sometimes incidents happened.

“All right, then. I’ll come down with the paperwork at noon.”

Heinwald gave him a cordial nod and headed downstairs.

Curran was awake already, looking a hell of a lot better than Heinwald felt. He stood up from the bed, immediately coming over to the bars of the cell.

Heinwald stopped in front of him. The two of them gazed at each other through the bars for a long, quiet moment.

Heinwald decided to go first. “I apologize for not going further to prevent you from getting imprisoned.”

Curran shook his head. “I wouldn’t have let you. Not just otherwise.” He paused, then reached for Heinwald’s hand through the bars. Heinwald gladly took it in his own. “When I said sorry...I wasn’t sorry for punching that guy. Fucker deserved it. But I was sorry that I was leaving you alone for the night. Since I knew you’d find out what he said.” He gave Heinwald’s hand a squeeze. “How did you sleep?”

“By drinking a lot,” Heinwald admitted.

Curran laughed at the frank and slightly odd answer. The sound of it echoed down the stone hall. “I can tell. You look like hell.” He pulled Heinwald closer and ran his fingers through his loose hair. His smile twisted a little bit. “Don’t drink so much, you lightweight.”

“I see. So it’s acceptable for you to go out, get drunk, and punch people, but I’m the one who shouldn’t drink?” Heinwald muttered.

Curran’s fingers paused in his hair. Then he figured out that Heinwald was joking and he snorted. “Hey, I only beat a man’s face to bloody pulp. You almost gave yourself alcohol poisoning.” He didn’t bother mentioning that he was extremely sober at the time. Heinwald undoubtedly knew, and they were still inside the guard barracks. It would be foolish to say anything to hurt his case.

“Hah. As if I would die without you there to resoundly mock me.”

The return to normalcy was reassuring, but there was still something he had to say. “Yeah. No offing yourself without me, you hear?” He drew Heinwald in by the hand in his hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Heinwald’s eyes closed and he replied softly, “Understood.”

***

Day 7

11:30AM

“Mr. Heinwald?”

Heinwald turned to the young boy standing at the door to his study. He raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes, Mr. Elias?”

Elias glanced over his shoulder, presumably at the person or people behind him. Then he looked back at Heinwald. He blurted out, “Mr. Heinwald, can we have a party?”

Heinwald blinked at the young man. “A...party?”

“Y-yes? We found the grand ballroom, and it’s really pretty, so….” Elias babbled.

Ah. Yes, the ballroom. The last time he set foot in there was...over ten years ago. He had shut the door after his father’s murder in that very room and simply...never thought about it again.

The sensation of Curran’s hand on his shoulder whisked him out of his musings. Curran started, “Elias--”

Heinwald interrupted him, first addressing Curran. “It’s fine.” Then, to Elias, he said, “Well, if you’d like to throw a ball, then feel free to make arrangements.”

“Really?!” Elias exclaimed.

When Heinwald nodded, the boy grinned widely. “Thanks, Mr. Heinwald!” Much to Heinwald’s horror, Elias flung his arms around his waist, giving him a hug. Luckily it was over quickly, and Elias was running out the door into the hallway, yelling to his co-conspirators, “He said it was okay!”

Heinwald was stunned at the sudden display of physical affection. When Curran tugged on his shoulder, he turned around easily, already waiting for the teasing.

Curran looked...concerned. His brow was furrowed and his eyes searched Heinwald’s face. “You really okay with this?” he asked.

Ah. Too worried to tease. Heinwald thought for a long moment, trying to figure out the best way to express the way he was feeling. “I think...it would be beneficial...to rediscover that place as one filled with people and music,” he said slowly.

Curran’s eyes were still roving Heinwald’s face. Heinwald patiently allowed him to do so. Finally, Curran nodded. Then grinned. “Well. Guess I’ll get to see you in something fancy?”

Heinwald only smirked in response.

At around dinnertime that very day, Elias and Lowen appeared before the two of them, each carrying a stack of papers. “Hello, Mr. Heinwald! Hello, Mr. Curran!” Lowen chirped.

Slips of paper were thrust into their hands. “We put you two down as the guests of honor. Since it’s your house and everything,” Elias said seriously.

The papers were small square invitations, inviting the reader to a ball in two day’s time. The dress code was put down as “fancy,” the hosts were “Elias, Lowen, Melsa, and Pia,” the guests of honor were “Mr. Heinwald and Mr. Curran :),” the location was “the ballroom,” RVSP was “not necessary,” food was “provided,” and it was all written in what was clearly someone’s attempt at their Very Best Handwriting. It was all ridiculously charming.

Heinwald read over the message very seriously. Then he did a slight bow towards the two boys. “Very well. Thank you for the invitation. We will be there.”

Lowen and Elias beamed at them. Then the two of them ran off, presumably to deliver more invitations.

As soon as they’ve left, Curran murmured to Heinwald, “How the hell will all of the guests find outfits in two days?”

Heinwald tucked away the invitation. “In the attic, we have old costumes meant for masquerades, in case guests could not obtain costumes for whatever reason. Without the masks, they would make for very serviceable formalwear if the guests are unable to find ones they like in town.”

“Seriously? Is there anything this house doesn’t have?” Curran asked rhetorically.

“Despite my best efforts, it does not have a fiend rift in the dungeon,” Heinwald replied.

“WHAT?” Curran sputtered. “Heinwald, you’re kidding, right? You’ve GOT to be kidding.”

“Of course I am,” Heinwald said haughtily. “I would have asked permission before I attempted to open up a fiend rift. I know you dislike them.”

“MOST people dislike fiends, Hein--”

***

Day 10

7:00PM

The grand ballroom was all set up for the party. The magical servants had kept the room clean even when it was shut, so the marble floors and silver decorations gleamed. The long banquet tables had been shoved to one side and filled with food and drinks, the decades-old music player had been fixed up and tuned by Kleimann and Sinoa. The ex-Choir members had all volunteered to perform music, but Lowen had insisted on having the music player repaired so “you guys get a chance to enjoy the party, too!”

Of course, everyone was dressed to the nines. The clothing was perhaps less tailored than at most balls, but all in all people were dressed well, either in clothing they bought from the very eager tailors in town or from the fancy dress Curran had dragged out of the attic on Heinwald’s orders.

Speaking of which, Curran and Heinwald had strict orders to wait for everyone else to enter the ballroom so their arrival could be announced as befitting the guests of honor. While waiting, Heinwald stepped forward to adjust Curran’s collar. “You look very handsome, partner.”

Curran was wearing the outfit Heinwald had ordered for him a while back when they had to do an infiltration mission. It was color-wise a fair match to his usual outfit, dark blues and whites with gold and red accents and dark pants. It was, however, much more form-fitting than his usual outfit, to his vocal displeasure at the time. “No matter what you say, you can’t convince me to like it.”

Heinwald stepped back to eye his handiwork. Then he unbuttoned the top few buttons, enough to show the peek of Curran’s chest he usually got. He nodded in approval before rebutting, “Luckily, you don’t have to like it. Only I do.”

Curran grumbled a little, but he could understand what Heinwald meant. Heinwald looked quite stunning in his rich purple outfit. Instead of its usual low ponytail, his long hair was elaborately braided. “Well, you clean up nicely too, partner.”

“Thank you.” Heinwald patted his own hair, checking for any stray hairs, before shaking out his shoulders. “Shall we?”

Curran offered him his arm. Heinwald ignored it and headed for the door.

As the door to the ballroom opened up before them, Elias announced, “Everyone, please welcome our guests of honor for tonight, Lord Heinwald and Sir Curran!”

It took quite a bit of effort for both of them not to cringe under the force of everyone’s attention and applause.

Luckily, it seemed as though Elias didn’t have any other speeches planned, for Lucretia immediately launched into her first song.

Curran immediately made a beeline for the booze. He would definitely need some liquid courage to survive this night.

A few hours later, most people had finished with the buffet and started migrating to the dance floor. Euden, of course, was a very popular dance partner, finding himself guiding a new partner with every new song. Elisanne was a close second, and currently she was looking quite befuddled as she danced with Vanessa. Cleo was sitting aside, watching people dance, but poor Rodrigo had spent the last couple of hours trying to work up the courage to ask her onto the floor.

Heinwald had also disappeared onto the dance floor. Lucretia had asked him to dance with her, to everyone’s surprise, but it turned out that Heinwald knew all of the high-class ballroom dances, leading her skillfully around the dance floor instead of just twirling around like some of the other dancers were. They had made quite a pair, actually, and after three consecutive songs without breaking a sweat, Lucretia had graciously relinquished her hold on him, swapping over to Aurien and allowing Laranoa to step in.

Somehow, Curran had ended up standing along the wall next to Louise, who was wearing a beautiful tulle-layered gown. He sipped the punch he had gotten from somewhere and commented, “Good party.”

Louise nodded. “Lowen did a great job. And the other children too, of course.”

Curran hummed, watching the dancers fly across the floor in time to the music. Heinwald crossed his line of sight, this time with Malora, who appeared to be chatting away.

Now, he wasn’t jealous, per se...he knew full well that Heinwald had zero interest in people other than him. But still, with this song winding down, he figured now was a good time as any to stake his claim.

He gave Louise a cordial nod and set down his drink. He skated around the edge of the dance floor until he had a clear line to Heinwald. Then he struck.

“Mind if I cut in?” he said to Malora politely.

Malora grinned at him. “Here for a second chance?”

“Er, no.” Curran took Heinwald’s hand. He got a glimpse of Malora’s surprised face before Heinwald was pulling him away.

It’s only when he managed to step on Heinwald’s foot that he remembered something very important. “Oh yeah. Is now a good time to mention I don’t know how to dance?”

“You don’t know how to dance and you came all the way here to dance with me?” Heinwald’s lips quirked upwards. “Unbelievable.”

“Yeah, yeah, shave it for later,” Curran muttered.

Heinwald laughed. “Very well. I will take you up on that offer. I’ll let you lead--look down, and follow my feet with yours.”

Easier said than done. Heinwald wasn’t giving him any mercy, keeping up in time with the beat and adding in all of the fancy footwork he was doing with the actual, trained ex-noble. Curran could barely keep up with him, so Heinwald had to handle their actual trajectory, along with yanking Curran’s arms and shoulder around so he was vaguely in the stance he was supposed to be in. It was fast, and a little stressful, but it was...fun. He felt like he was flying, especially when he looked up from his feet and locked eyes with Heinwald. Without preamble, he blurted out, “You look amazing.”

Heinwald jerked backwards suddenly, pulling Curran forwards, so that Curran narrowly missed Fritz and Annelie going by. “Look out!” In the process, Curran trod on his foot. “Ouch!”

“Sorry, partner!” Curran yelped.

“Pay attention!” Heinwald snapped. But despite his harsh tone, he was smiling. And Curran found that he couldn’t look away from his face. When Heinwald looked like that--when they were bickering, but he was smiling and so obviously amused--it was impossible not to kiss him.

And so he stopped dancing and leaned in. Heinwald, as always, met him halfway.

As far as their kisses go, this one wasn’t particularly inspired. Even the fact that they’re kissing while wearing scratchy clothing (that Heinwald looked hot as fuck in) wasn’t particularly memorable.

Except somehow they had forgotten to tell anyone that they were together.

Aaand this was the first time they’d ever kissed in front of any of their fellow adventurers.

Right then, Luca danced by, along with his sister. Luca hooted and called out to them, "Congratulations for finally getting your shits together!"

No longer dancing, Curran and Heinwald look at each other in confusion. Curran's expression read "what the hell is he talking about?" while Heinwald's said "I don't know, people are your jurisdiction, take care of this please."

"What do you mean?" Curran asked Luca.

Luca and Sarisse also paused. Sarisse then smacked Luca. "Don't make assumptions! Just because they kissed doesn't mean they'll start dating!"

"What are you talking about?" Curran asked, utterly befuddled. "We've been together for four years!"

He spoke a bit louder than he intended, trying to be heard over the music. Luckily, he accomplished his goal. Unluckily, everyone heard him.

Around them, the dancers come to a halt. People are looking at them again. Both of their faces are starting to flush.

"Wait, seriously?" Luca asked.

"Yes! Was it not obvious?" Curran yelled.

"No! No one knew!"

"We share a room!"

"Euden's sharing one with Ranzal!"

"The painting considers us married!"

"What? What painting?"

"We sleep in the same f-- darn bed! In the castle, too!"

"Among other activities…"

"Heinwald? Shut up."

"I don't go into Heinwald's room! He's scary!"

"No he's not! Well, kinda. But he's not!"

Heinwald coughed delicately, cutting off whatever rebuttal Lucal had planned. He turned to address Euden, who had escaped the dance floor and was now frozen over the punch bowl, punch slowly dripping out of the ladle in his hand. He called across the room, "My apologies. I did not realize not disclosing our relationship formally would cause such a shock; trust me when I say that we did not intentionally withhold that information. I would like to declare that Curran and I have been lovers for the past four years. Would that cause further issue?"

Curran muttered to him, “Don’t...say it like that.”

Heinwald blinked up at him. “Like what? It is factually correct.”

“Ugh, I don’t know, it’s kinda a weird way to put it.”

“You’re the one acting strange, Curran.”

By this time, Euden had recovered from his shock and set down the ladle. He interrupted their bickering by calling, "Er, stop arguing, please. It’s not going to cause any problems. And it's not an issue that you didn't tell us. We're just...surprised."

"We didn't intend to make it a big secret. I guess we just...forgot to mention it,” Curran mumbled.

“Well, uh...congratulations, you two? Four years late?” Euden laughed awkwardly.

“Uh. Thanks.” Curran was also feeling quite awkward. Heinwald was very still in his arms, apparently deciding that if he didn’t move he wouldn’t attract attention to himself. Curran then said a little louder, “Can we please just get back to dancing?” His embarrassing learning experience would be better than everyone staring at them.

But luckily enough, that seemed to snap everyone out of their daze. And soon the party was back to what it was before.

In the middle of the dance floor, Curran leaned down to bury his burning face into Heinwald’s shoulder. “Oh, Goddess Ilia. Can’t believe no one realized we’re fucking.”

“So, I can’t call us lovers, but you can refer to us as ‘fucking?’”

“Shut up, Hein,” Curran sighed. Then he popped back up to look at Heinwald in the face. “Ugh, can you imagine if we never invited them here? Who knows how long it would’ve taken them to notice our relationship.”

“Who knows indeed,” Heinwald agreed. Then, just because he could, he leaned up to give Curran another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to DM me about my HeiCu headcanons @pyro_dragon on twitter.


End file.
